


A Winter Morning

by pandon



Category: Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Drabble, First Kiss, M/M, pandon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-26 20:26:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19775788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pandon/pseuds/pandon
Summary: “It was in the car, that January morning, that you sat up and just looked at me, and suddenly everything changed.”Drabble #2 of our Ot3 Drabble Collection





	A Winter Morning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bottombeeb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bottombeeb/gifts).



> “It was in the car, that January morning, that you sat up and just looked at me, and suddenly everything changed.”

Chicago is unbearably cold in January. The sting of icy air invading his lungs, making them feel tighter than usual, isn’t pleasurable to Patrick, but there’s something about the air this time of year that makes every breath a little sweeter. Every inhale through his nose smells like happiness, like the scent of Brendon’s hair. The harsh winter breeze brings with it the memory of Brendon’s cold nose pressed into the crook of Patrick’s neck, a smile pressed against his skin. 

He remembers it like it was yesterday, still feels butterflies dancing in his tummy when he slides into the driver's seat and glances over at the spot Brendon occupied on  _ that day. _

It’s not very often that Patrick is awake before pretty much any one else on the planet, but on  _ that day _ , he was picking up an exhausted, jet lagged, and adorably rumpled Brendon from the airport. No one likes an early morning flight, no one likes picking up someone from the airport before the sun has even risen, but sometimes we suffer for the ones we love.

He’d grumbled his way through two cups of tea by the time he got to the parking deck, then stepped out into the chilly air with another grumble. Patrick never claimed to be a nice guy before the sun’s up. With hands tucked firmly into his coat pockets, he’d made his way to baggage claim, eyes scanning the area for Brendon.

Finally, he spotted him. Hair a mess, some of it hanging in his eyes, body loose and clearly tired from the 11 hour flight. Patrick could  _ feel _ his exhaustion from across the gigantic room. As the two men made their way towards the carousel containing luggage from flight 1210, they locked eyes and smiled simultaneously. Maybe Brendon smiled first, maybe Patrick did. The order didn’t matter. What mattered what that Brendon’s tired eyes brightened at the sight of Patrick and his smile was full of such warmth that the cold outside was long forgotten. 

A hug was exchanged, as well as a few words of small talk, and then they were dragging two bags towards the car, neither catching the others eye as they traded stares. 

Brendon had asked if it was okay for him to nap on the way back, said he was barely a human anymore at this point. Turbulence had been intense over the last two hours of the flight, so his anxiety was ramped up, only to make him come crashing down once they were safely on the ground.

Patrick had smiled and nodded, insisted that he kick the seat back and snooze away. Even offered to take the long way back if Brendon wanted an extended nap. They’d shared a smile, then each were focusing on their respective duties. 

An hour in traffic had given Patrick plenty of time to watch the boy sleeping in the seat next to his. Plenty of time to wish he could reach over and brush the hair from his eyes, run his fingertips across his full lower lip. He’d missed him while he was gone. Two weeks with minimal contact probably didn’t sound like much of a struggle to anyone else; people went months without talking to their friends sometimes, right? 

Brendon wasn’t just someone. He wasn’t just a friend. Well, he  _ was _ just a friend. But he also  _ wasn’t _ .

Brendon was the boy Patrick had been in love with for years, but he’d never spoken up about it. The only person who’d known was Pete and he was sworn to carry that secret to his grave. 

Once they’d arrived at Brendon’s apartment, Patrick had taken a few moments to just stretch in his seat and watch the rise and fall of his precious cargo’s chest. He’d looked so peaceful, like he’d needed the rest so badly, that Patrick felt guilty waking him. So, he didn’t. He made himself busy with some work on his phone and sat there with the car running, keeping the inside warm and comfy. Prime sleeping conditions - if you consider snoring in a car prime.

Some amount of time later - Patrick can’t really be sure, looking back - he’d felt a pair of eyes on him and turned to find the source. Brendon was sitting up and just staring, a fond smile on his face, eyes soft, warm, and oh so inviting. Eyes that held something more than just gratitude for the extended nap. If he hadn’t known better, Patrick would have called that look in Brendon’s eyes something similar to what was reflected in his own when his gaze was directed at Brendon. Patrick just smiled back at him as he locked his phone screen and made a move to turn the car off. 

“I missed you,” Brendon had admitted softly. 

Patrick’s eyes snapped to the other boy’s and his hand stilled on the keys in the ignition. He’d studied Brendon’s eyes, the way they smiled along with his mouth, the way they flicked down to Patrick’s own mouth momentarily. Something had shifted between them in that moment, with that confession.

“Missed you, too,” Patrick had managed to find the courage to reply, his own eyes moving to find Brendon’s lips for half a second. 

“Guess I owe you one for waking up before the sun to grab me from the airport,” Brendon had said, licking his lips and leaning forward just a bit. Just enough to make Patrick’s stomach flip with excitement. 

“You can cover pizza next time we hang,” had been Patrick’s offer, not allowing himself to read into Brendon’s words too much.

Brendon’s face had turned thoughtful at that, eyes searching Patrick’s face before a smile quirked his lips upward at the corners. 

“Got a better idea,” he half-mumbled before he leaned in and pressed his lips to Patrick’s in a kiss that could only have been described as warm and  _ home.  _ Lips so plush, exactly as Patrick had always dreamt they’d be, pressed to his was enough to make his heart skip a beat and head off to the races. 

The kiss had morphed from something tender and sweet to something deeper, more deliberate, Patrick’s hand finding Brendon’s jaw and holding him close as they broke apart. They had both been a bit breathless and had a bit of color on their cheeks, whether from the heat in the car or the heat between them wasn’t clear. 

Brendon laughed quietly and pulled back, eyes tired but so bright, bright like the sun. His hand closed around Patrick’s on the key in the ignition and turned it gently, never breaking their eye contact. 

His eyes had been an invitation long before the words left his lips.

“You should stay.”


End file.
